


Say My Name

by luka_cola



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Breaking bad - Freeform, I decided to combine my two favorite things, I might never finish this but I really want to, I'll figure the rest out later, M/M, harry is jesse pinkman, he'll be worse than skyler, jesse and walt don't fuck but harry and louis do that's where this is going, liam is hank schrader, louis has a fiance but that won't last long trust me, louis is walter white, niall is saul goodman, they aren't in the fic yet but it just works, this is a Breaking Bad based fic, zayn is mike ehrmantraut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-16
Updated: 2016-06-19
Packaged: 2018-07-15 09:30:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7216984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luka_cola/pseuds/luka_cola
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I didn’t think you would amount to much, but I wasn’t expecting you to be selling methamphetamine,” Louis stepped forward again and eyed him up and down, taking in the fact he looked a bit like a flighty kitten with the clothes of a rebellious teenager. Harry backed minutely further away. “There’s a lot of money in it, huh?”</p>
<p>breaking bad au. Harry really wants to bang Louis in the lab, but Louis deems that way too unsanitary. They probably do it anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize in advance if I never finish this. I don't know how many people actually like Breaking Bad AND One Direction, but I wrote this mainly for myself. I love the relationship Walt and Jesse develop, but I like the idea of Harry and Louis doing this and developing a little differently. If you've watched the show reverently, you'll probably be annoyed at the amount of lines I steal directly from the show. I'm sorry. I also have no clue if this is going to turn into a real fic, or if it'll just be snippets from the BB universe. who knows. I won't tell the story well enough to understand without watching the show, that I can guarantee, plus it's a really great show, so go watch it.
> 
> thanks to Bruno for being a cheerleader. and giving me good ideas.

Louis turned at the sound of incoming police sirens and clutched desperately at his hair. He couldn’t hold back the panic that was bubbling inside of him as he screamed profanities and let the tears run down his cheeks. The gun in his hand was forgotten as he replaced it with a video camera, fumbling with the buttons as the alarm signaling his impending jail time was nearing. With shaky hands, he pointed the camera towards himself and hit record.

“My name is Louis William Tomlinson. To all law enforcement agencies, this is not an admission of guilt.” He covered the camera to take a shaky breath. “I’m speaking to my fiancé now. Christopher, there are going to be things you’ll come to learn about me in the next few days, some truly terrible things, but I want you to know that I only had you in my heart.” Louis took another breath and wiped his face. “Goodbye.”

He turned the camera off and threw his wallet with identification cards onto the ground next to it. He steeled himself, giving himself a few moments of hesitation before grabbing the handgun once again and striding into the middle of the road. He was shaking and crying uncontrollably, the thought _how could I let this happen_ repeating over and over again in his mind, but he held the gun in the direction of the sirens anyway. They were near now, almost deafening as the firetruck came into view.

The firetruck.

He shoved the gun back into his pants and dashed to the side as the firetrucks barreled right past him. His life wasn’t over. He would see Chris again. He could still cook. Jesus Christ.

Harry came stumbling from the RV and ripped off his gas mask quickly, making his way over to Louis who was still standing dumbly at the side of the road. Harry stared wide eyed at him, likely mirroring the current expression on Louis’ face. They both watched the firetrucks disappear on the horizon, and Harry was the first to speak.

“What happened?” Louis didn’t answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [tumblr](https://twink-larrie.tumblr.com/)


	2. Chapter 1

When Harry laid eyes on him again for the first time in 5 years, it had been a bit of a shock to the senses. Especially because of the fact that Mr. Tomlinson was currently glaring at him from the inside of a cop car, while the cops themselves were making their way to the opposite end of the block, successfully finding their meth lab and arresting the wrong guy. Well, not wrong per se. But not the one they were looking for.

Also, Harry was currently falling out of a window because he was too busy staring at Mr. Tomlinson to notice that he had reached the point where the roof ended and the air started.

He had no time to waste, though. He had to get as far away from that cop car as possible before they came back. It probably wasn’t even Mr. Tomlinson anyway, just someone with blue eyes nearly as striking and hair nearly as fluffy. Who had aged very well, with messy scruff covering his sculpted face. Who couldn’t stop gaping like he’d seen a ghost. Whatever.

Harry got to his feet unsteadily and ran like a wild animal who had been startled in an otherwise peaceful forest. It wasn’t too far off. Aside from the fact they were in a cul-de-sac in New Mexico, in a city surrounded by desert.

Fuck, he was so lucky he hadn’t been in the house, cooking, just then. Something like fate must exist, because along with the fact he had just spent the night in an extremely attractive guy’s bed, he also got to skip out on going to prison, sending his partner in crime instead. Oh well, that’s part of the business. Not like he knew the guy that well, anyway. He was just better at the cooking part, and Harry was better at the selling part. His mom always used to say he had a knack for charming people. She probably didn’t figure her son would end up here, but, well. Users have to make money, might as well break two laws at once and deal. Using, cooking, and dealing meth is probably in itself breaking more than two laws, but Harry had never paid much attention in school. Did people learn that sort of stuff in school? Harry didn’t really know.

He slammed the door to his car, jammed his keys in the ignition as best as he could with shaking hands, and sped off, hoping that he could make it out, and stay lucky.

 

*

 

Louis looked around nervously as he tried to park the car inconspicuously a few doors away from the house he was going to check out. He took a few deep, calming breaths, reminding himself that this was just a former student, and he was the one with more authority here, the one who hadn’t done anything wrong. He got out of the car, content with the fact that he probably had the power to put the man in jail if it all went wrong, and forget any of this ever happened. He was just too curious, though, to leave before even trying to talk to the guy.

As he timidly approached the house, he heard rustling behind the car which was, he assumed, what Harry had been driving earlier, and as a figure reluctantly rose, his suspicions were confirmed.

“How’d you find me?” Harry questioned, sounding more than a little overwhelmed as he met Louis’ eyes.

Louis smirked a bit, slowly making his way towards the car Harry seemed to be using as a barrier.

“You’re still in our filing system.” Louis managed to remain calm on the outside, while internally he was still trying to figure out what the hell he was supposed to say to this kid. He didn’t exactly know how to explain that he was dying and needing to pay for cancer treatment, to leave money for his fiancé, to leave a life behind that he could never be unhappy with, no matter how dirty the money was. He needed it, quick. “No one is looking for you, or anything. I came here on my own.”

“Why are you here?” Harry asked sharply. It wasn’t surprising the kid wanted to get straight to the point. He obviously had no idea what Louis wanted from him. Hell, Louis hardly had any idea, himself.

“I didn’t think you would amount to much, but I wasn’t expecting you to be selling methamphetamine,” Louis stepped forward again and eyed him up and down, taking in the fact he looked a bit like a flighty kitten with the clothes of a rebellious teenager. Harry backed minutely further away. “There’s a lot of money in it, huh?”

Harry shook his head abruptly, and that had Louis crossing his arms over his chest. They made eye contact when Louis was on the ride along. Louis watched Harry fall out of a window. He saw him speed away as if his life depended on it. Which, Louis had gathered, it did, based on the license plate “Banana Boy”, which is the “street name” Louis’ (cop) friend, Liam, had been spitting at him from the passenger seat of the police car when naming the suspect. Louis had chuckled a little, because what kind of street name was “Banana Boy”? But apparently it was no laughing matter, as he had received a glare from Liam’s partner and a pointed look from Liam. And who would be stupid enough to put their street name on their license plate, anyway, especially being as ridiculous as that is? But whatever. That wasn’t what Louis came to ask. The point was, Louis knew Harry had a part in that whole scheme. If nothing else, he knew the business, and that was all Louis really needed from him.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Harry growled.

“No?” Louis scowled. So it was going to be like that, then?

“Not a clue,” Harry insisted. He was a shit liar, and they both knew it. He was really just trying to delay the inevitable. But Louis wasn’t here to send him to prison, and that was something he thought Harry hadn’t quite wrapped his head around yet. He didn’t want to rat him out, he wanted to partner with him. He would turn him in if he had to, but he needed the money more than he had ever needed anything else in his life. He wouldn’t leave without a fight.

“’Banana Boy’? That’s not you?” Louis raised an eyebrow, closing the distance between him and Harry and lifting the tarp Harry had just assembled over the trunk of the car, revealing the incriminating license plate. “Like I said, nobody’s looking for you.”

Harry couldn’t refrain from baring his teeth, continuing to back away and increase the space between the two men. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing here, Mr. Tomlinson. High school was a long time ago, I’ve made my choices, so if you’re here to preach a long speech to me about getting right with Jesus, or some shit like that, you can kindly fuck off.”

Louis held up both hands in surrender, not being able to help when a bit of laughter escapes his mouth.

“Short speech,” he insists.

Harry didn’t look pleased, but he stayed silent, staring him down, and Louis took that silence as permission to continue.

“You lost your partner today. He’s going to prison, and you got lucky.” Harry’s stare moved from Louis to the ground where he shuffled his feet. He couldn’t hold back a snort at the double entendre, but Louis barreled on. “But now, you’re back at square one. No partner. No lab. But you know the business.” Louis took another step forward, lowering his hands to his hips. “And I know the chemistry.”

Harry’s head snapped up, and this time he was the one gaping at Louis in disbelief. Louis’ invitation hung heavy in the night air between them, and the silence stretched on for a few moments. Louis shifted subtly, opening his mouth to add something to make the deafening silence break, but Harry beat him to it.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” He bellowed out a laugh. “You, Mr. Tomlinson, want to cook crystal meth?”

“I’m not your teacher anymore. Call me Louis,” Louis demanded. Harry shook his head, smiling up at him with the sinful dimple that 23 year old Louis had been quite fond of seeing in his class every day.

Harry went on, seemingly ignoring Louis. “You, the high school chemistry teacher. And me, the junkie dropout?”

Louis nodded, suddenly solemn. “That’s right.” He confirmed. “Either that, or I turn you in.”

Harry stared up at the sky, throat bobbing and expression unreadable as the implications of Louis’ words sank in. He turned to look at him again, something in his eyes making Louis want to squirm, but he stayed put, putting on a calm, collected face, as if he knew exactly what he was doing, even though he had no fucking clue.

It seemed to fool Harry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [tumblr](https://twink-larrie.tumblr.com/)


	3. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks bruno for impromptu beta-ing. apparently I can't even read 1.7k words well enough to be my own beta.

Louis suffered through the school day slowly, assigning pages from the basic high school chemistry book for the students read in fear he wouldn’t be able to focus well enough to teach an actual lesson. Thankfully, the school allowed him to do either, so he didn’t have to risk it. He spent the time instead daydreaming about the plan he had to make. He knew exactly what he needed, and he could steal- no, _borrow_ it, from the school, likely without anybody noticing, since rarely did any other faculty member set foot in the equipment room.

He fucked around at his desk for an hour or so after the last class of the day had finished, absently grading papers, or at least trying to, before he grabbed an empty cardboard box and set off to unlock the door adjoining his classroom and the equipment lab. The majority of students would be gone, save from ones needing after-school tutoring, and most of the teachers were either in their respective classrooms or at home.

He quickly grabbed everything he thought or knew he would need, filling the box to the brim. He clumsily placed two aprons over the top, trying in vain to cover the assorted glassware. Thankfully, as he exited, he found the parking lot to be empty and he got the stuff in his trunk without incident. He breathed out a sigh of relief as he got into the driver’s seat, content in the fact that the hard part was over. Kind of.

 

*

 

Harry sat on the lawn with a banana scone in his hand, staring at the clouds as he waited for Mr. Tomlinson to show up. A big cloud directly above him looked like a polar bear, and he watched amusedly as it fought with the cloud next to it, a mutated giraffe with two heads.

He heard the unmistakable sound of crunching gravel and let his gaze drift downwards as the car pulled into his driveway. He took a bite from the scone and kept his eyes on the car as Mr. Tomlinson hurried out and popped the trunk, beginning to sort through his various objects, never sparing Harry a glance. Harry rolled his eyes and continued to chew on his banana scone until Mr. Tomlinson addressed him directly.

“Are you just going to sit there?” Mr. Tomlinson turned around finally and gave Harry a condescending look. Harry sighed and finished the pastry off, wiping his hands on his pants to get rid of the crumbs. He trudged reluctantly the few steps it took to get to the car, still coming down from his earlier high and not really wanting to do anything more than stare at the clouds until the sky turned dark. Mr. Tomlinson had insisted that they get started right away, though, and his pretty face was almost as fun to watch as the clouds, so Harry didn’t object.

Mr. Tomlinson pulled something vaguely spherical and glass and tall and held it out to Harry.

“Look at this, look at this,” Mr. Tomlinson instantly perked up and his voice pitched upwards slightly. “Kjeldahl-style recovery flask, 800 millilitres, very rare. You got your usual paraphernalia, Griffin beakers,” Harry tuned him out as he continued to go on and on. What the fuck was this guy even talking about? He eyed his plate of assorted scones wistfully, unwilling to make the six foot trek to get it, wishing he hadn’t left it over there on the table, so very far away.

“I wanna cook in one of those,” Harry interrupted whatever he was going on about, as Mr. Tomlinson’s lightning blue eyes turned to him and his mouth stopped moving. “A big one.” Harry added helpfully, pointing to a triangular-looking thing.

Mr. Tomlinson looked to where he was pointing and snorted, replacing the object in his hand with what Harry had been eyeing.

“No, this is a volumetric flask. You wouldn’t cook in one of these,” He waved it in Harry’s face, as if that would make it more clear what it was or why it mattered.

“Uh, yeah, I do.” Harry stated decisively. Obviously it worked if his product was selling, the technical shit wasn’t important. He knew how to cook, and he did it well.

“Uh, no, you don’t,” Mr. Tomlinson scoffed. “A volumetric flask is for general mixing and titration. You wouldn’t apply heat to a volumetric flask.” He laughed mockingly, like this was common knowledge, or something your average person knows. “That’s what a boiling flask is for. Did you learn nothing from my chemistry class?” Harry couldn’t hold back eye roll after eye roll as Mr. Tomlinson talked down to him like he was a child.

“No. You flunked me, remember?” Harry deadpanned. He thought Mr. Tomlinson should drop the patronizing teacher act. It didn’t look good on him, disregarding how attractive he was in the first place.

“No wonder,” He sneered.

“Prick.” Harry drew the word out. “And let me just tell you something. This ain’t chemistry. This is _art_.” Mr. Tomlinson snorted and looked at Harry incredulously.

“Cooking is art, and the shit I cook is the bomb. I think I know what I’m doing.” Harry folded his arms across his chest challengingly, raising an eyebrow.

“The shit you cook is shit. I saw your setup, it was ridiculous. You know nothing about chemistry, and that’s what this is. That’s why I’m here. You and I will not make garbage. We’ll make a chemically pure product. No adulterants. And no banana powder.”

“What? BP is my signature!” Harry exclaimed, outraged that he would suggest that. It had been around for years, he couldn’t just drop it now. In the business, you start from the ground up, you make a name for yourself, and he had already done just that, he made it to the streets, and it was selling, it was fine. Why would Mr. Tomlinson try to challenge that? It just didn’t work.

“Not anymore.” Mr. Tomlinson remained calm, packing the items he had picked up back into the boxes.

Harry stared at him for a beat, smiling sarcastically and shaking his head, thoroughly perplexed by the situation at hand. Honestly, Mr. Tomlinson came to _his_ house, asked for _his_ help, yet he  _insulted_  Harry's product, and casually declared that he wouldn’t even be able to add his own signature anymore. What an asshole.

“Yeah, well, we’ll see about that,” Harry smirked as he lifted an apron that had been discarded earlier as Mr. Tomlinson had pushed it aside to rummage through the boxes. “What the hell is this?”

“Lab safety equipment,” he stated breezily. “We’ll also have an emergency eye-wash station.”

Right, Mr. Tomlinson was a hardass and an actual chemistry teacher. As if Harry could ever forget for one second with how often Mr. Tomlinson liked to remind him of his past fuck ups and the way he wouldn’t stop correcting Harry’s cook. Mr. Tomlinson hadn’t even seen it, much less smoked it. Harry had done a lot of the latter, and he thought it was pretty damn good. Mr. Tomlinson didn’t even fucking _use_ so how could he have any idea what the _users_ wanted? Ugh. These thoughts were just going to get Harry angrier, so he decided to at least let the man indulge himself. When Mr. Tomlinson realized cooking was harder than it looked, Harry would be there to rub it in his arrogant ass face. Or just his arrogant ass, because Mr. Tomlinson had a nice one, no matter how arrogant.

 

*

 

Louis inconspicuously tucked the envelope full of cash into his jacket pocket, speed walking out of the credit union. He looked both ways subtly, crossing the parking lot to get to Harry’s beat up car. He handed the envelope off to Harry, settling his shaking hands on the top of the car, leaning forward into Harry’s space through the driver’s side window. He was nervous, but he knew this was what he needed to do. It would be a short term investment for long term gain. With Harry’s help, they could handle the business easily.

When he looked down at Harry, Harry was grinning up at him with a twinkle in his eyes. Louis didn’t think he fully understood the weight of all of this, no matter how long he had been in the business. Louis needed to make it big time. He needed to get rich, and fast. Harry had only been working street level, and that wasn’t what Louis wanted, needed. He didn’t know the specifics, or the inner workings of the meth industry, but he knew that he needed BIG.

Louis gestured in a “go on” motion. Harry peeled the envelope open, eagerly counting the money. His dimples faded as his smile disappeared.

“This isn’t even seven grand… my guy wants 85.” Harry lolled his head back against the headrest and groaned.

“This is all the money I have in the world,” Louis made exaggerated circle motions with his hands. “All of it.” Louis sighed, and put on a charming smile. “You’re a drug dealer. Negotiate.”

Harry gaped at him for a beat, and then scoffed. “You’re not how I remember you from class.”

Louis checked his watch and ran a hand through his hair, beginning to step away and already planning the excuses he would make to Chris. “I gotta go.” He made it a few more steps before Harry’s voice rang through the otherwise empty parking lot.

“Wait, wait, hold on,” Harry stuck his head out the window and called to Louis, waiting for him to turn around before continuing. “Tell me why you’re doing this. Seriously.”

Louis cautiously took a few steps forward, back in Harry’s direction.

“Why do you do it?” He defensively threw back at him. He didn’t have the energy for this conversation yet.

“Money, mainly,” Harry raised his eyebrows as he drawled slowly.

Louis tilted his head in an affirmative, and made a weak stab of one finger in Harry’s direction as he stepped back again. “There you go.”

Harry watched silently as Louis strutted towards his own car, looking deep in thought but keeping his lips pressed together.

Louis called out one last time before opening his own door and speeding off.

“Buy the RV.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you like breaking bad and/or one direction come chat with me on [tumblr](https://twink-larrie.tumblr.com/). I need to discuss these things 24/7


End file.
